The Story Of A Girl
by AryaTyrell
Summary: Hermione's side of the story. Harmony all the way.
1. Chapter 1

**Don't you just love it when I start another multi-chapter when I have about five more I need to finish? I'm kind of feeling like Hermione when she had her Time-Turner in the third year- up to my ears in fanfiction stuff. I have "19 Years Of Facebook," ''Knights Aren't Always Heroes,'' ''Stand," "One," "Boyfriend," and "The Smallest Light Shines Through the Darkness" to finish. Do I plan on finishing those? Yes. Hopefully sometime in the not too distant future. **

**By the way, there's another story that's like this. It's called "Confidence" by SecretlyAWritter (it's in my favorites if you want to see it). That's where I got this idea from. But I promise you I am not trying to plagiarize! I'll do my best to make sure that my story is completely different than SecretlyAWritter's. **

**Good? Good. :) **

**DISCLAIMER: I don't own Harry Potter! I'm just having fun with the characters. :) **

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><p><em>Ignore, ignore, ignore, ignore... <em>

That were Hermione Granger's thoughts as she moved through the corridor of the Hogwart's Express, trying to find an available compartment. She had very bushy, frizzy hair, and it was earning her plenty of looks. At eleven years old, Hermione wasn't the prettiest girl in the world- though sometimes wished she was. Her left hand was laden with books, while the other hand dragged along an old, beaten up trunk that once belonged to her father. As she searched for an empty compartment, she couldn't help but peer through the windows on the compartment doors. There were girls exclaiming over copies of magazines, both Muggle and Wizarding. There were boys talking excitedly about a curious sport called Quidditch. Some had their wands out, performing spells to impress their friends, while others were doing what Hermione wanted to do: reading by the window.

After what seemed like an eternity, Hermione found an empty compartment near the end of the train. As both of her hands were full, she slid open the door with some difficulty. When she finally jammed her trunk through the narrow door, she dumped her books onto the faded green seat and put her trunk on the seat opposite her. Then she reached for the book at the top of the pile- _Standard Book Of Spells, Grade 1. _Being Muggle-born, Hermione knew she'd be behind in many subjects, and wanted to learn as much as possible beforehand.

She had only read as far "Chapter One: Holding Your Wand" when a plump woman pushing cart full of brightly colored packages stopped by. "Anything off the trolley, dear?"

Hermione jumped up immediately. As her parents were dentists, she was never allowed too much candy at home- and she could really go for a Mars Bar right now. But the woman didn't have Mars Bars. She did have Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans, Chocolate Frogs, Licorice Wands, Drooble's Best Blowing Gum, Cauldron Cakes, Peppermint Toads, Cockroach Clusters, and so many other new and strange things Hermione had never seen before. "Er..." Hermione didn't think she would be so behind in something as trivial as _candy._

"Muggle-born, dear?" the woman asked kindly. Hermione nodded, not sure what to say. "Well, I recommend Chocolate Frogs and Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans. Those are crowd-pleasers."

"Yes please," Hermione smiled gratefully at the woman. As the woman went to get the treats, Hermione read the price board tacked to the side, and did some mental math. Hermione counted out two Sickles and six Knuts for her treats, thanked the lady, and went back to her seat.

Hermione opened up her Chocolate Frog and saw, much to her surprise, a real Chocolate Frog. She made to grab it, but it jumped out of the box. Hermione gasped- was it _alive? _Before she could catch it, it already hopped out the door.

Hermione shrugged- it was just candy, anyway. She picked up the piece of paper that had been sitting under the Frog- _Merlin_, it read. The photograph underneath the word, which Hermione assumed was Merlin, winked at her. She laughed and set the card aside.

She was halfway through her box of Every Flavor Beans (she realized that when they say Every Flavor, they meant every flavor- she got eggs, soap, toothpaste, chocolate, marmalade, peppermint, salt, strawberry, and gravy) when another person appeared at the doorway. It wasn't the candy woman, much to Hermione's dismay. It was a boy with a round, forgetful face, with tufts of black hair on top of it. He looked extremely worried. "Hello," he said shyly. "You haven't seen a toad around, have you?"

Hermione shook her head. "Sorry, I haven't. But I'll help you search for him if you like."

He beamed. "Okay. I'm Neville, by the way."

"I'm Hermione, nice to meet you." Hermione stood up. "I'll go to the north end of the train, and you go to the south end."

Neville's face became perplexed. "Which way is south?"

"That way," Hermione pointed to her left.

"Okay, thanks for helping!" He left.

Hermione went to every compartment, asking the same question over and over again: "Have you seen a toad? Have you seen a toad?" She was met with the same response: a polite smile and a shake of the head.

She was heading back to her compartment, with no fruits from her voyage all over the train, when she saw a compartment she hadn't tried yet. Crossing her fingers for luck, she opened the door.

Inside were two boys, one with the messiest, darkest hair she'd ever seen. Scotch tape circled the bridge of his glasses. His clothes looked too big for him and he was rather skinny for his age. Hermione's heart leapt out to him immediately- his home life musn't be so good. Then Hermione noticed his eyes- they werea startling, vivid green. The other boy had flaming red hair and freckles, and he also had secondhand clothes- but they were at least his size. Both of them were staring at a rat, who was stuck in an Every Flavor Beans box.

"Has anyone seen a toad?" she asked a little flatly. "A boy named Neville's lost one."

"No," the redhead said, a look of annoyance on his face. There was a dirt smudge on his nose.

Hermione took notice of the wand he was holding. "Oh... are you doing magic? Let's see it then," she requested, curious.

"Alright, I suppose," the redhead said. He cleared his throat. "_Sunshine daisies, butter mellow... turn this stupid fat rat yellow!" _A flash of light came out of his wand, but nothing happened- apart from the box coming off the rat. The redhead looked at the other boy, who merely shrugged.

"Are you sure that's a real spell?" Hermione asked them. "Well, it's not very good, is it?" They stared at her, the redhead having a look of even more annoyance on his face now. But Hermione wasn't leaving until she got the raven haired boy's name. "I've tried a few simple spells myself for practice, and they've all worked for me," she said, hoping to impress them. Then she walked inside and sat across from the boy with the broken glasses. "For example," she said, whipping out her wand and pointing it at him. He immediately looked frightened. Hand shaking, Hermione said, "_Oculus Reparo!_"

The tape shot off the bridge of his glasses, and the boy gasped in surprise. He took them off and inspected them- they were good as new. The two boys shared a look, and Hermione pressed on.

"I'm Hermione Granger, by the way, and... you are?" she added to the redhead.

"Ron Weasley," he managed through a mouthful of chocolate.

"Pleasure," she said, wrinkling her nose a little. Hermione was a neat freak, a trait that ran all the way through the Granger family.

"I'm Harry, Harry Potter," said the dark haired boy.

Her eyes widened in surprise, and her gaze traveled up to his forehead. She strained to see the scar through his bangs- and there it was. "Are you really?" she said in wonder. "I've read all about you, you're in _The Rise and Fall Of The Dark Arts _and _Great Wizarding Events of the Century-" _

"Am I?" Harry asked, sounding a little dazed. Hermione frowned- it sounded like he hadn't known he was famous.

"Of course, I'd want to know everything if it was me," Hermione said.

They talked for a little while longer when Hermione finally took note of the time. "You two had best change into your robes, I expect we'll be arriving soon." Then, as she was about to walk out the door, she added to the boy named Ron: "You've got dirt on your nose by the way, did you know? Just there." Aside from being a neat freak, she was also partly OCD- that smudge had really been bothering her.

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><p>Three hours and forty-five minutes later, Hermione stared in wonder at how-well, how great the Great Hall was. She had read about it in <em>Hogwarts, A History, <em>but the beauty of it all was still quite shocking. Huge oak doors served as an entrance, and when they swung open, Hermione saw hundreds of candles floating in the air, unsupported. The ceiling appeared to be the night sky, but after staring a little harder, she was able to see the ceiling underneath it, but barely. Four long, wooden tables stretched from the doors to the High Table, where Hermione supposed the teachers sat. Sitting at the four tables were rows and rows of students clad in black robes, but one thing set them apart- their facial expressions. One table, far to the right, was full of scowls. The one next to it looked curious at the event, and the table next to that looked rather bored. Only one table looked genuinely excited.

Hermione heard Ron Weasley, who was not very far from her, saying that they'd be tested. Apparently he knew _because_ his elder brothers had told him. Hermione began to panic. A test? She'd only been here for a few minutes! Hermione started running the spells she'd learned through her head- not many of them seemed very useful. However, she kept a tight grip on her wand inside her robe pocket.

Professor McGonagall, the Professor who had led them inside, placed a hat on a worn, old stool. Hermione stared at it, wondering what on earth it could be for- until, to her very great surprise, it began to sing. She breathed a sigh of relief as she listened to the lyrics- they just had to try on the Hat!

The Sorting began with "Abbot, Hannah!" Hermione supposed they were going in alphabetical order. That was good, it would take a while for Professor McGonagall to reach the G's...

The Hall was filled with silence as it awaited its verdict. Finally, the Hat screamed "HUFFLEPUFF!" and away Hannah went to the table that had seemed curious. Cheers erupted.

Some twenty minutes later, Professor McGonagall called her name. "Granger, Hermione!"

Hermione's breath caught. "Deep breath," she told herself. "You're going to be okay. Relax." As she walked up, she heard a voice whisper, "Mental, that one is." The Hat slid over her eyes as annoyance stabbed at her.

_Hmmmmm_, a voice whispered in her ear. Hermione jumped- she hadn't expected the Hat to talk. _Err, hello_. She thought nervously.

_You've got a brilliant brain, Hermione Granger. Very brilliant. You'd do very well in Ravenclaw, _the voice mused.

Hermione's heart sank. She had been hoping for Gryffindor.

_Gryffindor, eh? _the voice asked. Hermione jumped again- it seemed to be able to read her thoughts. _I do see courage in you, Hermione Granger. You are destined for great things. Yes... GRYFFINDOR! _

It shouted the last word for the Hall to hear, and the table to her right exploded with cheers. Still shaking, she clumsily walked to the source of the cheers. People were shaking her hand, patting her back, everything. She smiled. Almost like family.

"Potter, Harry!" she heard Professor McGonagall's voice call a while later, and the Hall suddenly broke into whispers. Hermione watched Harry walk up to the stool bearing the Hat, and saw that he looked as nervous as she. She crossed her fingers under the table, hoping he'd get-

"GRYFFINDOR!" the Hat screamed, and once again the Gryffindor table erupted into cheers. "We got Potter! We got Potter!" screamed two redhead twins, looking quite similar to Ron. As Harry made his way to the table, everyone treated him the same as Hermione- ruffling his hair, patting his back, shaking hands. Hermione's heart leapt when he sat next to her. Nothing could spoil her happiness, not even when that Ron Weasley had been selected for Gryffindor. Maybe, someday, she could be friends with them.

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><p><strong>Sooooo... what do you think? :D Let me know! <strong>


	2. Chapter 2

**Still with me? If you are, YAYYY! VIRTUAL HUG! **

**Okay, so I'm pretty much just following the regular Harry Potter plotline. I'm planning up to sixth year because I have another story called "One," which describes what should have happened when Ron left Harry and Hermione in the Horcrux hunt. If I included the seventh book then it would pretty much be a repeat of that story. **

**-SPOILER ALERT!- Some of you have asked me when I plan on them actually getting together. Well, I'm planning that you'll see some action in the third year (when Hermione seriously considers falling for him.) It won't be till the sixth year when you see them get together. -SPOILER ALERT!- **

**So... yeah. LET'S GET STARTED! **

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><p>After about a month of sitting next to Harry in classes and at meals, Hermione had gotten nowhere. Hermione had a few friends, of course. Among them was Neville, the boy who'd lost his toad, and Percy Weasley, Ron's pompous older brother. But Neville was a walking accident and a constant source of embarassment for Hermione when he tripped or when he ran into something, and Percy only liked to talk about school subjects. Percy was also about four years above Hermione, which made it even harder to find time to converse.<p>

Despite her friend situation, Herimone's classes were very enjoyable. She found that there were loads of people who were Muggle-born like her, and didn't have much of a head-start. But Hermione learned quickly that it was good that she had perused her spellbooks before arriving- in Transfiguration, she was the only one who had succesfully turned a match into a needle. Professor McGonagall showed the class how pointy and silver it had gone and gave Hermione a rare smile.

Besides Transfiguration, she had Charms, Potions, Herbology, Astronomy, and Defense Against the Dark Arts. Defense Against the Dark Arts was quite a bit of a joke to Hermione, because the room smelled strongly of garlic. Hermione learned that Professor Quirrel, the teacher, smelled like garlic as well. When asked about his turban, Professor Quirrel always gave the same story: he had recieved it from a African prince as a thank-you present for getting rid of a troublesome zombie. When Seamus Finnigan asked about the smell, Professor Quirrel turned pink and started talking about the weather. The Weasley twins (Hermione found out that they were indeed Ron's brothers) were convinced that the turban was stuffed of garlic because of a vampire encounter, and so that Professor Quirrel would be protected wherever he went.

Hermione was good at academics, but not at sports. This term applied even at her Muggle schools- she aced History and Maths, but always got a low grade in P.E. So when Hermione saw the flyer for flying lessons, she gulped in nervousness. Flying was a talent, not a skill you could learn out of a book.

She tried to, anyway. On the morning of the lessons, Hermione told everyone facts about flying and Quidditch from a book she'd got out of the library called _Quidditch Through The Ages_. Neville hang on to every word, desperate to learn a way to fly without killing himself. Ron and Seamus scoffed, saying that they already knew how to fly and that her advice was pointless. Harry didn't say anything- perhaps he was trying to listen as well.

In what seemed like seconds, Hermione found herself outside, standing next to a broom. Hermione heard Madame Hooch saying something about saying up to your broom, but she wouldn't swear to it- her hearing wasn't working properly today. "Up!" she said nervously. Her broom merely rolled over on the ground. Perhaps, Hermione figured, brooms were like horses; they could tell when you were nervous. "UP!" she commanded firmly, and this time the broom flew up to her hand. Hermione staggered a bit because of the sudden weight, but she grinned in spite of herself. She looked around to see everyone else's progress: Harry already had his in hand, of course. Next to him, Ron's broom flew up and hit him in the face. Hermione laughed. Neville, who had no progress in making his broom fly to his hand, picked it up when Madame Hooch wasn't looking. She didn't feel as nervous anymore, now knowing that she wasn't the worst in the class.

"Alright! Mount your brooms! Go on, go on!" Madame Hooch commanded them. Everyone obeyed, Neville looking green. "Alright! When I blow my whistle, you kick off from the ground, hard." She looked at everyone with her piercing eyes. "Keep your brooms steady, rise a few feet, and then come straight back down by leaning forward slightly. On my whistle- three- two-"

A sudden yell broke everyone's focus. Neville was already in the air! Hermione was among those who gasped in shock, knowing that Neville would never be able to come back down.

Neville leaned forward, trying to come back down, but he somehow managed to make his broom go faster and higher. Hermione's stomach did a flip. The group of students back away, out of fear Neville might fall on them. After flying into wall, getting caught on a statue's spear (twice) he finally fell to the ground. Madame Hooch muttered something about a broken wrist. As she made her way through them, she announced: "If I see any of you in the air, you'll be out of here before you can say 'Quidditch.'"

A fight broke out the second she disapppeared.

"Did you see his face, the great lump?" asked a boy with pale blonde hair. It was slicked back with gel. Hermione realized that he seem to like provoking the students by being rude. She also realized that he was quite good looking, but not as good as Harry.

"Shut up, Malfoy!" said Parvati Patil, another Gryffindor.

"Oooh, sticking up for Longbottom, Parvati?" sneered Pansy Parkinson, a hard-faced Slytherin girl who had a face like a pug. "Never thought you'd like fat little crybabies."

"Look!" Malfoy said before Parvati could answer. "It's that thing Neville's grandmother sent." He picked up a circular, clear object. Hermione recognized it as Neville's Remembrall. It had come earlier that morning.

"Give it here, Malfoy." the voice was quiet, but it still drew attention. With a gasp, Hermione saw it was Harry Potter.

"I think I'll leave it somewhere for Longbottom to find- how about on the roof?" Malfoy jumped on his broom and flew off into the air.

Harry was not amused. "Give it _here, _Malfoy!"

"Come and get it, Potter!"

Hermione, sensing danger, was quick to warn Harry. If he got expelled, Hogwarts for her wouldn't be the same. "No!" she shouted. Harry looked at her, and Hermione stopped breathing for a moment. "Madame Hooch said not to move! And you don't even know how to fly!"

Her heart plummetted a thousand feet into the ground when Harry took off anyway without another word. "What. An. Idiot," she muttered, but she couldn't help but admire how graceful Harry looked in the air. He looked unsupported and weightless. The crowd of students watched as Harry and Malfoy exchanged a few words of choice. Then, being the arse he was, Malfoy threw the Remembrall.

Hermione gasped as Harry dived after the little glint that was the Remembrall. Hermione closed her eyes and thought with a sickening lurch, _Oh my God, he's going to crash- _

Cheers erupted from all around her. Hermione opened her eyes and saw Harry running towards them, the Remembrall clutched in his hand. The students surged to him, Hermione among them, congratulating him and patting him on the back, almost the way he was treated during the Sorting.

"HARRY POTTER!" called a stern voice. Everyone turned to see that it was Professor McGonagall, with an unreadable expression on her face and hands on her hips.

"It wasn't Harry's fault, Professor-" Ron started, but Professor McGonagall cut across him.

"Be quiet, Mr. Weasley-"

"Malfoy provoked him-" Hermione started.

"Hush, Miss Granger. Now. Class will be dismissed early today," Professor McGonagall said, and that was final. She motioned for Harry to follow her, and Hermione caught the words, "Never seen it before. Absolutely absurd." and her heart sank again one more. Harry was going to be expelled, she was sure of it.

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><p>"Neville! You'll never guess what happened!" Hermione ran into the hospital wing after the class had been dismissed. Neville was lying on one of the cots, his arm in ice. He was the only one there.<p>

"Madame Pomfrey said I have to wait a little while before she heals it," he said in response to Hermione's puzzled look. "So what did I miss?"

"Harry Potter's going to be expelled from Hogwarts!" she whispered furiously. Although no one was around, she made sure only Neville could hear. She supposed this wasn't something that the whole school should know.

"What? Why?" Neville asked, sitting up.

"He was sticking up for you, Neville. You dropped your Remembrall, and that stupid toad Malfoy got it. He flew off into the air with it, and although we weren't supposed to, Harry went off and caught it for you," Hermione continued breathlessly. Neville burst into tears.

"Harry P-Potter's g-going to be e-e-expelled!" he blubbered. "All b-because of me!"

"No, no, Neville, it's not your fault!" Hermione felt like she was consoling an overgrown baby. "He's just got a kind heart," she smiled.

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><p>Hermione and Neville talked a little while longer, but soon she had to leave for dinner. Hermione entered the Great Hall expecting to see a table full of somber Gryffindors, but instead she found them looking excited. She took an empty spot in front of Harry and Ron as they turned to speak to Malfoy and two very large and muscular boys.<p>

"Tonight, if you want," Malfoy was saying. "Wizard's duel. Wands only- no contact." Hermione already didn't like the sound of this. Harry already had one close shave with expulsion already, and it would take pure, dumb luck for him not to caught for this one. "What's the matter?" Malfoy asked. Hermione realized that Harry and Ron hadn't said anything to Malfoy's previous request. "Never heard of a wizard's duel, I suppose?" he taunted Harry's ignorance. Well, so long as Harry didn't lie and say he had-

"Of course he has!" Ron said, breaking Hermione out of her thoughts. "I'm his second, who's yours?" Hermione facepalmed.

Malfoy looked back at the two muscular boys, sizing them up. "Crabbe," he decided. "Midnight, alright? We'll meet you in the trophy room. That's always unlocked." Then the three of them turned to leave.

Harry and Ron turned back to their dinner, now cold. "What _is _a wizard's duel, and what do you mean, you'll be my second?" Harry asked, perplexed.

"Well, a second's there to take over if you die," Ron said, now shoveling in some pie. At Harry's shocked face, he added, "But people only die in proper duels, you know, with real wizards. The most you and Malfoy can do is send sparks at each other. Bet he expected you to refuse anyway."

"So... what if I wave my wand, and nothing happens?" Harry asked.

_Shake hands and live civilly? _Hermione thought desperately.

"Throw it away and punch him in the nose," Ron suggested without hesistating.

This was getting ridiculous. Hermione had to step in before something bad happened. "Excuse me," she said. Both of them looked at her. She suddenly didn't feel as brave as she had a few seconds ago. "I couldn't help but overhear what you and Malfoy were saying-"

"Bet you couldn't," Ron muttered.

Hermione went pink but continued. "-And you mustn't go wandering around the school at night, think of all the points you'll lose for Gryffindor!" Then, hoping to make them feel guilty, "It's really very selfish of you."

"And it's really none of your business," Harry said, and got up.

"Good-bye," Ron said, and ran to catch up with his friend.

Hermione stared at the Sheperd's Pie she had put on her plate. Maybe Harry wasn't as kind-hearted as she thought he was.


	3. Chapter 3

**FUN FACT: This story got it's title from the song "Absolutely: Story of A Girl" by Nine Days. I so recommend listening to that song. IT'S SO CATCHY! **

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><p>That night, as she sat in the common room completing her Charms homework, Hermione decided to use some of her Gryffindor courage and try to stop those idiots from costing the whole House at least a hundred House points. That would utterly detestable. It would also put them in last place for the Inter-House Championship.<p>

Hermione waited restlessly for midnight to come. Once she finished her Charms homework, she did the assignments for her other subejcts, too, just to make time go by faster. Then, to her dismay, she realized it still was not midnight, and started pacing the room. Some students threw curious looks at her but she didn't care.

At half-past eleven, Hermione was bouncing off the walls. At this stage, all the candles had been blown out, and moonlight shone through the window by the almost dead fireplace. When she heard thumps sounding from the stairs, she ran and hid behind the nearest armchair. Hermione giggled to herself- she felt as though she were playing hide-and-seek. As Hermione's inner child settled down for a nap, she watched as Harry and Ron, merely two shadowy blobs, tiptoed to the portrait hole. They almost made it, too, until Hermione's arm shot up and turned on a lamp.

"I can't believe you're going to do this, Harry," she said, a frown settling on her features. Both of them were wearing blue bathrobes. The familiar look of annoyance flitted across Ron's face again.

"_You!_" Ron said furiously. "Go back to bed!"

Hermione was about to make a smart comeback when Harry rolled his eyes and motioned Ron to follow him. "Come on."

Hermione wasn't going to stand for this. She'd been ignored by these twits too many times. "Don't you _care _about Gryffindor, do you _only _care for yourselves? _I _don't want Slytherin to win the House Cup, and you'll lose all the pointes I got from Professor McGonagall for knowing about Switching Spells!"

"Go away."

"All right, but I warned you, you just remember what I said when you're on the train home tomorrow, you're so-" Hermione stopped in shock as she turned to the portrait of the Fat Lady, which served as an entrance to Gryffindor Tower. Her portrait was empty- the Fat Lady had gone off on a nighttime visit, and Hermione was now locked out of Gryffindor Tower.

Hermione was so angry she almost stamped her foot. She'd waited all this time, and what did she get? Two naive boys who wouldn't listen to her (again) and no sleep. "Now what am I going to do?" she wondered.

Ron was such an arse. "That's your problem," he said. "We've got to go, we're going to be late."

They left Hermione in the darkness, alone. Hermione stood there for a moment, thinking about what she should do next. There weren't many options. She couldn't get back in Gryffindor Tower, which meant no sleep. It also meant that she'd surely get caught by Filch. And she was alone. In the dark. Hermione sighed, and reluctantly ran to catch up with the boys.

"I'm coming with you," she said when she reached them.

"You are _not._"

"D'you think I'm going to stand out there and wait for Filch to catch me?" Not to mention, it was really dark. "And if he finds all three of us I'll tell him the truth, that I was trying to stop you, and you can back me up."

"You've got some nerve-"

"Shut up, both of you!" Harry said sharply. That sure sobered up Hermione. "I heard something." It was a sort of snuffling.

"Mrs. Norris?" breathed Ron, straining to see through the thick darkness.

It wasn't Mrs. Norris- it was Neville. He was curled on the floor, sound asleep, but jerked awake when they crept nearer.

Neville ended up joining their troupe, much to Ron's dismay.

The four of them tiptoed along corridors shining with moonlight. Whenever they turned a corner Hermione always expected to see Mrs. Norris or Filch, but luck was with them- she didn't see hide nor hair of either of them. They sped up a staircase to the third floor and into the trophy room. True to Malfoy's word, it was unlocked.

Malfoy and Crabbe weren't there yet. Hermione softly, impatiently, tapped her foot as the minutes crept by. She kept watch on all of the doors, expecting Malfoy and Crabbe to burst in at any minute, but nothing happened. Out of the corner of her eye she kept a watch on Harry, too. She thought he looked ridiculous, with his bathrobe and his wand, but she didn't say anything- it might lower his liking of Hermione even more. Hermione didn't want that- if anything, she just wanted to be friends with him.

"He's late, maybe he's chickened out," Ron whispered.

There was a noise nearby that made everyone jump a foot in the air. Someone spoke- but it wasn't Malfoy.

"Sniff around, my sweet, they might be lurking in a corner."

A million curses ran through Hermione's head, mainly at Harry and Ron.

Harry waved madly at them to follow him as quickly as possible; they scurried silently toward the door, away from Filch's voice. Ron's bathrobe had barely whipped out of sight when they heard Filch enter the trophy room.

"They're in here somewhere," they heard him mutter, "Probably hiding."

"This way!" Harry mouthed to them. But within five minutes, Neville's clumsiness got the better of him; He made them topple onto a suit of armor. "RUN!" Harry yelled, and the four of them bolted down the corridor, not waiting to see if Filch was following. They swung around corners, galloped down more corridors, not knowing where they were going. Before they could hit the brakes, the four of them ripped through a tapestry, which they found was a secret passageway. They hurtled along it and came out in the Charms corridor, which was miles away from the trophy room.

"I think we lost him," Harry panted, leaning against the stone wall.

"I- told- you," Hermione gasped. She jabbed at his chest with every word. "I- told- you-"

"We've got to get back to Gryffindor Tower," Ron said.

Hermione wanted to say that she would have been better off locked out in the dark than in her current position, but she didn't have the energy to waste on that ginger. "Malfoy tricked you," Hermione said to Harry. "You do realize that, don't you? He was never going to meet you- Filch knew someone was going to be in the trophy room, Malfoy must have tipped him off."

Hermione knew she got her point across, even if he wouldn't admit it.

"Let's go."

They hadn't gone more than a few steps when Peeves, the school poltergeist, shot out of a classroom.

"Wandering around at midnight, Ickle Firsties? Tut, tu, tut. Naughty, naughty, you'll get caughty," Peeves taunted them.

After several attempts of getting Peeves to shut up, Ron impatiently took a swipe at Peeves, a big mistake he was too stupid to notice.

"STUDENTS OUT OF BED!" Peeves bellowed. "STUDENTS OUT OF BED IN THE CHARMS CORRIDOR!"

They ducked under Peeves and ran for their lives, right to the end of the corridor where they slammed into a door. Ron jiggled the doorknob.

"This is it! We're done for!" Ron moaned as he banged on the door.

"Oh, move over!" Hermione snarled, pushing Ron out of the way. Remembering she had left her wand back in the common room, she grabbed Harry's and whispered, "_Alohomora_!" The lock clicked and the door swung open. They piled inside and slammed the door.

"Alohomora?" Ron whispered.

"Standard Book Of Spells, Chapter Seven!" Hermione hissed at him.

_"_Shan't say nothing if you don't say please!" Peeves was saying outside.

"Alright- please," came the disgruntled reply from Filch.

"NOTHING! Ha haaa! Told you I wouldn't say nothing if you didn't say please! Ha ha! Haaaaaa!"

Hermione heard Ron snigger next to her, but she found no reason to laugh- she had already turned around. They weren't in a room, as she had supposed. They were in a corridor. The forbidden corridor on the third floor. And now she knew why it was forbidden.

Now, Hermione had read her share of Greek myths, and she knew what Cerberus was. But seeing him in flesh and blood... this was too much. On top of everything else that had happened that night, this just _had _to be a nightmare. All four of them screamed in unison, and Hermione groped for the doorknob- she'd rather get expelled than die, as Dumbledore said, a very painful death.

The door opened, and they fell out. Harry slammed the door shut, and they flew down the corridor. They no longer cared if Filch was still out looking for them- they just wanted to put as much space as possible in between them at that monster.

"Where on earth have you all been?" asked the Fat Lady, noting their flushed faces and sweaty bathrobes.

"Never mind that, pig snout, pig snout," Harry panted, and they all collapsed, trembling, onto armchairs in the common room.

It was a while before they said anything. Neville, indeed, looked as though he'd never speak again.

Ron had gotten both his breath and his smart mouth back. "What do they think they're doing, keeping a thing like that locked up in a school? If any dog needs exercise, that one does."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "You don't use your eyes, any of you, do you?" she snapped. "Didn't you see what it was standing on?"

Ron must have been rubbing off on Harry, as he had a smart mouth too. "The floor?" he guessed. "I wasn't looking at its feet, I was too busy with its heads."

Hermione sighed at their stupidity. "No, _not _the floor. It was standing on a trapdoor. It's obviously guarding something." She stood up and glared at them. She was still angry at them for nearly getting them thrown out of the school. "I hope you're pleased with yourselves. We could've been killed, or worse, expelled. Now, if you don't mind, I'm going to bed."

Hermione stomped upstairs, ignoring their bemused expressions. She flopped onto her bed, buried her face in her pillow, and screamed.

Boys were just so _stupid. _


	4. Chapter 4

**AHHH! GUESS WHAT! ****I got a Twitter last night! AND YOU KNOW WHAT THAT MEANS! (no, not abuse of caps lock and exclamation points) IT MEANS THAT YOU CAN FINALLY STALK ME! **

**Okay, maybe I overexaggerated a little. But that IS what Twitter is, right? **

**My Twitter is hopeless143. YAYYY! BEST INTERNET FRIENDS FOREVER! **

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><p>The next day Hermione woke up an hour late. Horrified at the prospect of being late, Hermione dressed very inattentively that morning- after five minutes of tugging, she realized she was trying to pull her hat onto her foot. Once she had all her clothes on the correct places, she gathered her books and ran down to the common room. She almost made it out the portrait hole, too, until she nearly ran over Seamus Finnigan and Dean Thomas. Hermione knew nothing about them, except that they were in the same House as her.<p>

"Oh, sorry, Hermione! Didn't see you there!" Dean said. He was very tall, for an eleven year old.

"It's alright," she scowled, pushing past them.

She flew down the corridor to the Great Hall, bumping into several people without even pardoning herself. Only two things on the To Do list today: _Eat. Get to class. _When Hermione sat dow she didn't even realize at first that people were talking, actually talking, to her. On any other normal day she would take advantage of this situation but today, she only smiled and nodded between bites of sausage.

In the middle of her furiously fast breakfast, Harry caught her eye. Hermione felt her body numb, but he merely rolled his eyes at her. He was holding something. Something long... and narrow... and big at one end...

When Hermione's brain finally decided to start functioning properly she saw that it was broomstick. She slammed down her knife and fork. First years having broomsticks was against the rules. It stated that, quite plainly, in their Hogwarts acceptance letter. Hermione shoveled in as much food as she could in five minutes so she could tell them off before their first class.

Finally, at long last, her plate remained as sparkling clean as it had when she arrived. Hermione looked around to make sure Harry was still in the Great Hall. With a jolt she realized that he and Ron were leaving for the dormitories. Hermione jumped up and departed at high speed, following them. When Hermione saw Malfoy and his gang block the way upstairs from Harry and Ron, she jumped behind a pillar to hide.

"It's not just any old broomstick," she heard Ron saying. "It's a Nimbus Two Thousand. What did you say you've got at home, Malfoy, a Comet Two-Sixty? Comets look flashy, but they're not in the same league as the Nimbus." Hermione didn't know much about brooms, but she did know that the Nimbus Two Thousand was one of the very best brooms ever made (she'd seen it on display at Quality Quidditch Supplies in Diagon Alley while shopping for school supplies). She gasped. How on earth could Harry manage to get such a broom? Hermione peeked around the pillar so she could get a better look at the scene.

"What would you know about it, Weasley, you couldn't afford half the handle," Malfoy snapped back. "I suppose you and your brothers had to save up twig by twig."

Ron looked as though he were ready to jump Malfoy but luckily, Professor Flitwick appeared.

"Not arguing, I hope, boys?" he squeaked. It was hard to feel intimidated by tiny Professor Flitwick, but he was still a teacher who had the power of giving detentions.

"Potter's been given a broomstick, Professor," Malfoy said quickly.

"Yes, yes, that's right," Professor Flitwick said. Hermione's mouth fell open. The teachers were _okay _with his? _The world. Has gone. Mad. _"Professor McGonagall told me all about the special circumstances, Potter. And what model is it?"

"A Nimbus Two Thousand, sir. And it's really thanks to Malfoy here that I've got it."

Hermione watched as those two idiots walked up the stairs, chortling. This was too much. Hermione _had _to go upstairs and say something to them. If the teachers were idiotic enough to pass this off, then she would at least make Harry feel guilty about it.

"Well, it's true," Harry was saying as she stomped up the stairs behind them. "If he hadn't stolen Neville's Remembrall I wouldn't be on the team..."

"So I suppose you think that's a reward for breaking the rules?" Hermione said in an angry voice before Harry could continue.

"I thought you weren't speaking to us?" Harry said. Hermione glowered at him.

"Yes, don't stop now, it's doing us so much good," Ron said.

Hermione marched away with her nose in the air. They were going to regret not listening to her one day.

* * *

><p>September faded into October, giving way to vermillion-colored leaves floating in the wind and covering the grounds. The weather had somewhat become cooler, which made Herbology more enjoyable, seeing as they were no longer in searing heat.<p>

Along with the weather, Hermione's lessons were becoming more and more interesting now that they had mastered the basics. On Halloween morning she was among those who cheered when Professor Flitwick announced that they were ready to start making things fly, something that they had all been dying to try since they'd seen him make Neville's toad zoom around the classroom. After reviewing the theory for the spell, Professor Flitwick put the class into pairs to practice. Hermione had been hoping for Harry, but instead ended up with Ron. It was hard to tell who was angrier about this- Hermione had stuck true to her word and had said nothing to Harry and Ron for the past three weeks.

"Now, don't forget that nice wrist movement we've been practicing!" squeaked Professor Flitwick, perched on top of his pile of books to see above the class. "Swish and flick, remember, swish and flick. And saying the words properly are important, too- never forget Wizard Baruffio, who said 's' instead of 'f' and found himself on the floor with a buffalo on his chest."

Professor Flitwick passed around feathers for them to practice on, and they began.

"_Wingardium Leviosa!_" Ron shouted, waving his long arms like a windmill. When that didn't work, he started hitting the feather ferociously with his wand.

"Stop, stop, stop," Hermione said, snatching the feather away from Ron. Ignoring his usual look of annoyance, she said, "You're going to take someone's eye out. Besides, it's Levi-_o_-sa, not _Leviosa,_" she said the last "Leviosa" very fast.

"You do it then, if you're so clever," Ron challenged her. "Go on, go on."

Hermione turned to the feather without answering him. She pointed her wand at the feather, swished and flicked, and said, "_Wingardium Leviosa!_"

Ron watched in outrage and disbelief as her feather rose about four feet above their heads.

"Oh, well done!" cried Professor Flitwick, clapping. "Everyone see here, Miss Granger's done it!"

Hermione smirked at Ron, who scowled and put his head on top of his books.

Fifteen minutes later, the bell rang, signaling the end of class. Hermioe stuffed her wand back into her pocket and gathered up her books, feeling pleased with the day's events. But her happiness soon evaporated when she heard what Ron had to say about her.

"It's no wonder no one can stand her," Ron said to Harry as they pushed through the crowded corridor. "She's a nightmare, honestly."

Hermione felt hot tears prick her eyes. So_ that _was how they felt about her? Hermione knew that she had passed off as annoying to them but she never thought that they would _hate _her.

Hermione put her head down and shoved past them, searching for the nearest girl's lavatory. Hermione felt their eyes boring into her back but she didn't care- she just wanted to be left alone for a little while.

* * *

><p>Hermiones 'little while' of alone time lasted the whole day, passing even lunch. As the Halloween feast drew nearer many people trooped in to wash their hands. When they did come in, Hermione ran and hid in a stall. No need for rumors to spread about a lonely girl crying in the bathroom. But when Parvati Patil and Lavender Brown entered, she did not hide- she knew them, they were in her dormitory. They offered to help her in her current situation, but Hermione politely declined. She didn't know why she was saying no to their offer.<p>

Hermione locked herself in a stall and cried to herself for about thirty more minutes. Soon, she when she felt that she had run out of tears, she decided to succumb to her stomach's screaming demands for food. Hermione timidly walked out of the cubicle and to the sinks to wash her hands for the feast- though she didn't know why she should, as she had already washed them with her tears.

When Hermione turned to get some paper towels, a foul stench filled the air. Hermione recoiled at the smell- it smelled like the kind of public toilet no one seems to clean. _Wait, _Hermione thought. _But all the Hogwarts toilets are clean..._

Then she turned around.

It was a horrible sight. Hermione didn't know what it was. It was twelve feet tall, and its skin was a dull, granite gray. Its great lumpy body was like a boulder with its small bald head perched on top like a coconut. Its legs were thick as tree trunks with flat, horny feet. It was holding a huge wooden club, which dragged along the floor because its arms were so long.

Hermione backed up into the wall, too petrified with fear to say anything. Then, when the giant took a swing with its club at the stalls, she unfroze and screamed at the top of her lungs. Her high-pitched scream attracted the attention of the giant, and it advanced on her, knocking off the sinks as it did so.

"Confuse it!" yelled a desperate voice. Hermione peered around the giant's huge legs and saw, to her very great surprise, Harry throwing a sink tap at the giant.

It worked. The giant stopped a few feet in front of Hermione, blinking stupidly. It lumbered around, trying to see what had caused the noise. The giant now lifted its club, going for Harry now.

"Oy, pea-brain!" yelled another voice. Hermione saw a flash of red hair- _Ron?_ The giant heard Ron's shout and paused again, now turning to Ron. This gave Harry time to run around it to Hermione.

"Come on, run, _run!_" Harry told her, trying to pull her towards the door, but Hermione was still frozen with shock and terror.

Then Harry did something that was very brave and very stupid: as the giant was facing Ron, its back was to Harry and Hermione. Harry took a great running leap and managed to fasten his arms around the troll's neck from behind. The troll didn't feel Harry hanging there, but it did feel the long bit of wood that was shoved up it's nose. Howling with pain, the troll twisted and flailed its club, with Harry clinging on for dear life. Any second now, Harry was going to crash to the floor or have the troll catch him with a terrible blow.

Hermione was still frozen in stupor. She wanted to help him, but she couldn't. She couldn't move. It felt as though she had the Leglock Charm placed upon her. There was a sort of numb feeling in the back of her mind, saying: _Help Harry! Help Harry! You've _got _to help Harry!_ Before she could move, however, she heard Ron's voice suddenly cry:

"_Wingardium Leviosa!_"

The club suddenly flew out of the giant's hand, rose high, turned slowly over- and dropped with a dead thunk on its owner's head. The giant staggered a little, and fell flat on his face with a thud that probably made the whole castle tremble.

Harry got up, shaking and out of breath. Hermione, with some amusement, saw Ron still standing there with his wand still raised, staring at what he had just done.

After about a minute of silence, Hermione finally snapped out of her numbing shock.

"Is it- dead?"

"I don't think so," Harry said. "I think it's just been knocked out." He bent down and pulled his wand out of the troll's nose. It was covered in what appeared to be lumpy gray glue. Hermione wrinkled her nose- it was like the troll's smell liquified.

"Ugh, troll boogers," Harry moaned in disgust. He wiped it on the troll's trousers.

The sound of pattering footsteps made the three of them look up. They hadn't realized what a racket they'd been making, and someone must have heard the noise downstairs. A moment later, Professor McGonagall burst in on the scene, closely followed by Professors Snape and Quirrell. Quirrell took one look at the troll and whimpered. He sat down on a toilet, clutching his heart.

Professor Snape bent down and examined the troll while Professor McGonagall glared at the Harry and Ron. Hermione had never seen her so angry- not even when Neville had misfired and caused Professor McGonagall's ears to shrivel up in class. "What on earth were you thinking?" said Professor McGonagall, cold fury in her voice. Ron was still standing with his wand in the air. "You're lucky you weren't killed. Why aren't you in your dormitory?"

Now, Hermione had always fantasized about the day when Harry and Ron would get in trouble for breaking the rules, and then they'd finally regret not listening to Hermione. Well, as Hermione watched in silence, the feeling of triumph that she'd expected to get wasn't coming. Instead, she felt sorry for the two boys. They had just saved her life- they shouldn't be getting in trouble for that. So, she stepped out of the shadows and did something she never would have done under normal circumstances: lie to a teacher.

"Please, Professor- they were looking for me."

"Miss Granger!" Professor McGonagall gasped, appalled.

"I went looking for the troll because I- I thought I could deal with it on my own- you know, because I've read all about them."

There was a small clatter that filled the silence- Ron had finally dropped his wand.

"If they hadn't found me, I'd be dead by now. Harry stuck his wand up its nose and Ron knocked it out with its own club. They didn't have time to come and fetch anyone. It was about to finish me off when they arrived." Hermione tried not to smile as she saw Harry and Ron trying to look like this story wasn't anything new.

"Well, in that case... Miss Granger, you foolish girl, how could you think of tackling a mountain troll on your own?" Hermione hung her head and feigned shame. "Miss Granger, five points will be taken from Gryffindor for this," said Professor McGonagall. "I'm very disappointed in you. If you're not hurt at all, you'd better get to Gryffindor Tower. Students are finishing the feast in their common rooms."

Hermione left. As soon as she was out, she broke into a wide grin- the first grin she'd worn since Charms that day. Now it was Harry and Ron in her debt. With this thought in mind, she happily skipped up to Gryffindor Tower. "Pig snout," she smiled at the Fat Lady.

"What're you so happy about?" the Fat Lady grumbled, but her portrait swung open nonetheless. Hermione stood just inside the door, waiting for Harry and Ron.

When they arrived, there was a very embarassed silence. "Thanks," they all blurted out at the same time, and hurried off to get plates.

And from that moment on, Hermione Granger achieved the goal she'd been trying to get since the first day of school: becoming their friend.


	5. Chapter 5

**Sorry I haven't updated for the past few days. Last weekend was "tax free weekend" down here, and you know what that meant... lots and lots of SHOPPING! ^.^ It also means you get a nice, long chapter for waiting so patiently. **

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><p>The weeks after the troll incident flew by and before Hermione knew it, it was November. The weather suddenly turned very cold; the mountains surrounding Hogwarts became an icy gray instead of a cool green, and the lake was very still, almost like frozen glass. It was so cold, Hagrid could be seen defrosting the broomsticks on the Quidditch field. His huge body was bundled in a long moleskin overcoat, rabbit fur gloves, and enormous beaverskin boots.<p>

There was an air of excitement among the students despite the harsh weather. November meant the Quidditch season was about to begin. Hermione knew this because, well, you didn't hang around Harry and Ron without having a few Quidditch facts be exchanged every now and then. Because Quidditch season was beginning, that also meant that Harry had to juggle both his homework and Quidditch practices, His practices were so frequent that, Hermione reflected, left him with only one night to do all his homework. How he was getting by, she didn't know.

Hermione pushed through the thick snow to Herbology, which was held outdoors in greenhouses. Although she had made two new friends, she was walking, or rather struggling, alone. Hermione didn't mind. She enjoyed the alone time- it gave her time to think. To think about life, about family, about Harry...

Someone shouting her name broke the icy silence. "Hermione!"

She turned to see who it was. _Speak of the devil_, she thought. The caller was Harry. It was as though she had summoned him by her thoughts.

"Y-yeah?" she said when he came to her. Damn this cold.

"I've got a huge favor to ask of you, Hermione."

"Okay."

"I've been really falling behind with homework because of Quidditch practice and all. Ron's no help, and I don't have time to run around and ask the teachers about it-"

"You w-want me t-to tutor you?"

He paused. "Yeah."

"Of course, Harry," she laughed at his face. "All you had to do was ask."

Hermione's Academy Of Torture (that was what Ron called it) began that evening in the Gryffindor Common Room. They often found themselves sitting at the same table until the latest hours of the night, when everyone had long gone to bed. Hermione found that Harry was very good at Defense Against the Dark Arts and that he never needed help. When Hermione asked about his ability in the subject he grinned at her and said, "Always the tone of surprise."

Ron usually fell asleep in an armchair, waiting for them to finish. He was always out before they got to the second subject. Ron had been very nice to Hermione ever since she had broken the rules for Harry and him. He had become even nicer when she began helping him with Transfiguration and Potions. Hermione was convinced that, while he was sleeping, the original Ron had been kidnapped and been replaced with this angelic Ron. When she voiced her opinion to him, he scoffed, but Hermione knew he liked the idea. In fact, he seemed to enjoy it whenever Hermione came up with smart comebacks or teasing names for him. All in the space of a few weeks, Ron had felt as close as the brother Hermione had never had.

Hermione became a bit more relaxed about breaking rules since Harry and Ron had saved her from the mountain troll. The day before Harry's Quidditch match the three of them were out in the freezing courtyard during break, and she had conjured a bright blue fire that could be carried around in a jam jar. They stood with their backs to it, getting warm, when Professor Snape crossed the yard. Automatically, they moved closer together to block the fire from his view- they were sure it wouldn't be allowed. Unfortunately, something about their guilty faces caught Professor Snape's eye, and he walked over. No, not walking- he was _limping. _Hermione stared.

"What's that you've got there, Potter?" Professor Snape asked Harry.

It was _Quidditch Through the Ages_, a book Hermione had lent Harry to take his mind off the upcoming Quidditch match. Harry showed him.

"Library books are not to be taken outsdie the school," said Professor Snape. "Give it to me. Five points from Gryffindor."

"He just made that rule up," Harry muttered angrily as Professor Snape limped away. "Wonder what's wrong with his leg?"

"Dunno, but I hope it's really hurting him," said Ron bitterly.

* * *

><p>Later that night in the common room, Harry, Ron, and Hermione sat together by a window doing homework. Hermione was looking over Harry and Ron's latest Charms essay for them. She would never let them copy ("How will you learn?" she retorted when they had asked).<p>

"Harry, the Summoning Charm was discovered in _seventeen _sixty-three, not nineteen sixty-three, where on earth did you get that?... And Ron, it's spelled A-C-C-I-O, not A-K-K-I-O." she told them, handing both essays back to its owner. "Honestly, I'm surprised that you made it into the school year this far with homework like this!"

"Yeah, well..." Ron yawned, stretching. "I'm tired, can we go to bed now?" Hermione stared at him.

"All you've done this year is sleep! How can you be tired?" she asked.

"I'm a growing boy."

"I'm a growing girl, and do you see me sleeping twenty-four-seven? Oh, noooo. I have to stay up half the night so I can pass my classes and actually get somewhere with my life!"

"Yeah? Well, I'm-"

Harry threw a sock at him.

"What was that for?" Ron said in indignation.

"I said, I'm going to see if I can get my book back."

"Well, you didn't have to throw your-" Ron sniffed the sock-"_used _sock at me."

"I had to, you didn't hear me the first time."

"Well, better you get it than me," Ron and Hermione said together.

"Chess, Hermione?" Ron offered her as Harry left.

Hermione shrugged. "Alright. But I haven't played in a while."

Hermione found that Wizard Chess was much more different than normal chess. In Wizard Chess you directed your pieces around the board as though you were directing troops in a battle. The pieces also spoke bits of advice to Hermione: "Let the pawn die, we can afford losing him." Or, "No! Now he'll be captured, don't you see!" Though she enjoyed chess she was very glad to see Harry come back through the portrait hole- Ron was winning by about seven pieces.

"Did you get it?" Ron asked as Harry joined them.

In a low whisper, Harry told them what he'd seen. "Remember how Snape was limping today? I saw it. I saw the bite. His leg, it was all bloody and mangled, and Filch was trying to patch it up. And you know what he was saying to him? 'How are you supposed to keep your eyes on all three heads at once?'" Harry paused as Hermione and Ron gasped in realization. "You know what this means?" Harry pressed on breathlessly. "He tried to get past that three-headed dog on Halloween! That's where he was going when we saw him- he's after whatever it's guarding! And I'd bet my broomstick that _he _let the troll in, to make a diversion!"

Hermione's eyes went wide. "No- he wouldn't," she said. "I know he's not very nice, but he wouldn't try to steal something Dumbledore was keeping safe."

"Honestly, Hermione, you think all the teachers are saints or something," Ron snapped. "I'm with Harry. I wouldn't put anything past Snape. But what's he after? What's that dog guarding? Oh, and chess, Harry?" he added, gesturing to the board surrounded by pieces that were destroyed by the very violent chess armies.

Harry shook his head and muttered something about going to bed, and he trooped upstairs.

* * *

><p>"You've got to eat some breakfast."<p>

"I don't want anything."

"Just a wee bit of toast," Hermione wheedled.

"I'm not hungry."

Hermione gave up. They were in the Great Hall, having breakfast. Excitement was rippling through the air in stronger currents than the previous days. The day of the match was finally here, and Hermione couldn't wait to see a real game of Quidditch. A few minutes later Harry got up with the rest of the Gryffindor team to go to the locker rooms. He glanced back at Hermione, who nodded encouragingly.

"Ah, forget him, Hermione, he's such a party pooper," Ron said as he left, shoveling in some bacon. "Bet you five Galleons Harry gets the Snitch today."

Hermione considered. "No. Five Galleons that Harry gets the Snitch, but not with his hands."

Ron furrowed his brow. "What do you mean?"

"He catches it with any part of his body _but _his hands."

Ron grinned. "You're so on."

By eleven o' clock the whole school seemed to be out in the stands around the Quidditch pitch. Many students had binoculars. Hermione was among them; she purchased a pair in Diagon Alley months ago, not sure what she would use them for. They were cool, anyway. They weren't ordinary binoculars- they were Omniculars, a special kind of Wizarding binoculars with all sorts of knobs and buttons along the sides. One of them, Hermione discovered, was to slow down whatever you saw looking through them. Another was labeled _Quidditch Mode,_ a feature which would tell you which position and technique a team or player was using in a game of Quidditch. Hermione switched it to that mode and tested it out, looking wildly at the sky. _No Quidditch Postions Detected, _ran a banner at the bottom of her viewpoint.

Ron and Hermione were joined by Neville, Seamus, and Dean up in the top row. As a surprise for Harry, they had painted a large banner on a sheet that Ron's rat, Scabbers, had peed on (the bright yellow spot was hardly visible, though) It said "Potter for President," and Dean, who was good at drawing, had done a large Gryffindor lion underneath. Then Hermione performed a tricky little charm so that the paint flashed different colors.

Madame Hooch, the flying teacher, was refereeing. She stood in the middle of the field, waiting for the two teams, with a broom in her hand. Madame Hooch said a few things to the teams, blew her whistle, and off they went.

"And the Quaffle is immediately taken by Angelina Johnson of Gryffindor- what an excellent Chaser that girl is, and rather attractive, too-"

"JORDAN!"

The Weasley twins' friend, Lee Jordan, was providing the commentary for the match, closely watched by Professor McGonagall.

After five fast and furious minutes, Gryffindor had scored its first goal. Gryffindor cheers filled the cold air, with howls and moans from the Slytherins.

"Budge up there, move along."

"Hagrid!"

Ron and Hermione squeezed together to give Hagrid enough space to join them.

"Bin watchin' from me hut," said Hagrid, patting the binoculars that hung from his neck. "But it isn't the same as bein' in a crowd. No sign of the Snitch yet, eh?"

"No," Ron said. "Harry hasn't had much to do yet."

"Keep outta trouble, that's somethin'," Hagrid said, and Hermione laughed.

"Slytherin in possesion," Lee Jordan was saying. "Chaser Pucey ducks two Bludgers, two Weasleys, and Chaser Bell, and speeds toward the- wait a moment- was that the Snitch?"

A murmur ran through the crowd as Pucey dropped the Quaffle, looking ocer his shoulder at the flash of gold that had passed his left ear.

Hermione grabbed Ron's sleeve as Harry dived downward after the streak of gold. Slytherin Seeker Terence Higgs had seen it, too, and neck and neck they hurtled towards the walnut-sized Snitch. The other players seemed to have forgotten what they were supposed to be doing as they hung in midair to watch.

WHAM! A roar of rage rang in Hermione's ears- a Slytherin player had blocked Harry on purpose and had spun Harry off course. Harry was clinging on for dear life as the Gryffindors all screamed, "FOUL!"

Madame Hooch spoke a few angry words at the Slytherin who had blocked Harry and ordered a free shot at the goal posts for Gryffindor. But in all the confusion, the Snitch had vanished again.

"Send him off, ref! Red card, red card!" Dean Thomas was yelling.

"What are you talking about?" Ron asked.

"Red card!" Dean said furiously. "In soccer you get shown the red card and you're out of the game!"

"But this isn't soccer, Dean," Ron pointed out. Hermione laughed.

Hagrid was on Dean's side.

"They oughta change the rules. Flint could have knocked Harry outta the air!" Hermione presumed Flint was the Slytherin's name.

Lee Jordan, however, was finding it difficult not to take sides.

"So, after that obvious and disgusting bit of cheating-"

"Jordan!" growled Professor McGonagall.

"I mean, after that open and revolting foul-"

"_Jordan, I'm warning you-_"

"All right, all right. Flint nearly kills the Gryffindor Seeker, which could happen to anyone, I'm sure, so a penalty to Gryffindor, taken by Chaser Spinnet, who puts it away, no trouble, and we continue play, Gryffindor still in possession."

Hermione gasped as Harry's broom suddenly gave a lurch. It looked as though the broom was trying to buck him off. The broom was completely out of control as it zigzagged, spun, and darted around, apparently trying to get Harry off.

"Dunno what Harry thinks he's doing," Hagrid mumbled. He was staring through his binoculars.

"Hagrid- he's lost control of his broom!" Hermione said.

"Did something happen when Flint blocked him?" Seamus asked.

"Can't have," Hagrid replied. "Can't nothing interfere with a broomstick except powerful Dark magic- no kid could do that to a Nimbus Two Thousand."

At these words, Hermione seized her Omnioculars and focused skyward. But instead of looking at Harry, she started looking frantically through the crowd.

"What are you doing?" Ron moaned.

"I knew it," Hermione said, tight faced. "Snape- look."

Ron grabbed the binoculars. Snape was in the middle of the stands opposite them. He had his eyes fixed on Harry and was muttering nonstop under his breath.

"He's doing something- jinxing the broom," Hermione said in outrage.

"What do we do?"

"Leave it to me," Hermione said, a plan beginning to sprout in her brain. She made her way through the thick crowd, pardoning herself several times. After about five minutes she found the stairs leading under the stands. She took the stairs and ran through the empty space beneath the stands, saving herself a lot of time. When she approached Snape's seat she pulled out her wand and whispered, "_Incendio." _Bright blue flames shot out of her wand- and onto the hem of Snape's robes. Then she waited.

It took about thirty seconds for Snape to realize that he was on fire. A yelp of surprise told her that she'd done her job. She scooped the fire off him with the little jar in her pocket and scrambled back to where Ron and Hagrid were. Snape would never know.

Five minutes later, Hermione was still scrambling down the corridor underneath the stands when a sudden hush fell upon the the crowd. She ran just in time to see Harry fall head-over-heels from his broom.

She gasped, horrified. She didn't exhale until Harry had gotten up again, looking as though he'd be sick- he coughed- and out fell a gold ball into his hands.

* * *

><p>"He didn't catch it, he nearly swallowed it!" Flint was still howling twenty minutes later, but it made no difference- Harry hadn't broken any rules and Lee Jordan was still happily shouting the results: Gryffindor had won by one hundred and seventy points to sixty. Harry, Ron, and Hermione heard none of this, though. They were being made cup or strong tea back in Hagrid's hut.<p>

"Five Galleons, please," Hermione requested Ron.

"No."

"No?"

"No."

"Harry caught the Snitch in his mouth. Therefore, I win this bet."

"Yeah, but he spit it out into his hands. So, you owe me five Galleons."

"No."

"No?"

"No."

"Ah, just give her her five Galleons, will you?" Harry told Ron. He was too in a celebratory mood to get in the middle of their bickering.

Ron scowled and gave Hermione her winnings. "Thank you," she said cheerily, pocketing the money.

"You three remin' me of me own school days," Hagrid chuckled. Then he paused. "Wonder how yer broom managed to act the way it did today, Harry."

"It was Snape," Ron explained, taking a sip of his tea. "Hermione and I saw him. He was cursing Harry's broomstick, muttering, he wouldn't take his eyes off Harry."

"Rubbish," said Hagrid, who hadn't heard a word of what had been going on next to him in the stands. "Why would Snape do somethin' like that?"

Harry, Ron, and Hermione looked at one another, wondering what to tell him. Harry decided on the truth.

"I found out something about him," he told Hagrid. "He tried to get past that three-headed dog on Halloween. It bit him. I think he was trying to steal whatever it was guarding."

Hagrid dropped the teapot, but made no move to retrieve it. "How do you know about Fluffy?" he demanded.

"_Fluffy?_"

"Yeah- he's mine- bought him off a Greek chappie I met in the pub las' year- I lent him to Dumbledore to guard the-"

"Yes?" said Harry eagerly.

"Now, don't ask me anymore," said Hagrid gruffly. "Snape's a Hogwarts teacher, he'd do nothin' of the sort."

Hermione slammed down her teacup, slopping tea over the edge. "So why did he just try to kill Harry?" she cried. The afternoon's events had certainly changed her opinon about Snape. "I know a jinx when I see one, Hagrid. I've read all about them!"

"There's a surprise," Ron muttered.

Hermione ignored him and continued, "You've got to keep eye contact, and Snape wasn't blinking at all, I saw him!"

"I'm telling yeh, yer wrong!" said Hagrid hotly. "I don' know why Harry's broom acted like that, but Snape wouldn' try an' kill a student! Now, listen to me, all three of yeh- yer meddlin' in things that don' concern yeh. It's dangerous. You forget that dog, an' you forget what it's guardin', that's between Professor Dumbledore an' Nicolas Flamel-"

"Aha!" said Harry. "So there's someone called Nicolas Flamel involved, is there?"

Hagrid looked furious with himself.

* * *

><p>Later that day, as they were trudging through the snow and back to the castle, Harry pulled Hermione aside. "Hermione?" he said.<p>

"Yes?" she shivered, wanting to get back inside the warm castle as quickly as possible.

"Do you-" he stopped. "Never mind."

"Do I what, Harry?"

"Never mind, it's stupid."

"Harry, I refuse-" she paused. "I refuse to tutor you until you tell me what it is."

"Fine then. Do you have a crush on- on-" Hermione felt her face grow hot, the snowflakes helping to cool it down. _This is it_, she thought_. He's going to ask if I like him-_ "On Ron?"

Hermione's heart sunk. Her ears must not have heard Harry properly. Harry just didn't ask her if she liked _Ron_.

"I mean, I always catch you guys staring at each other from across the room, and you always blush when he smiles or compliments you, and Ron is just a great guy and all-"

Hermione just stared at Harry, dumbfounded. For the first time in her life she could not answer someone's question.

"Hermione? Do you?"

"No," she said loudly. Ron, who was already halfway up the hill, turned.

"OY!" he bellowed. "CATCH UP, I'M NOT GOING TO WAIT HERE AND FREEZE TO DEATH!"

Harry grinned at her. "Well, if you don't, then I reckon Ron fancies _you_."

"That's not true, Harry," she muttered, her face flaming like a fire.

"Yes it is."

"Nuh-uh."

"RON AND HERMIONE-" Harry had begun singing at the top of his lungs.

"Stop it-"

"SITTING IN A TREE-"

"I'm warning you-"

"K-I-S-S-"

Hermione tackled him and they fell to the ground, which was luckily thick with snow.

"I never knew you were strong, Hermione."

"Always the tone of surprise."


	6. Chapter 6

**Sorry I took so long! I got such a bad case of OCD! Originally I was going to have Harry and Ron join Hermione on holiday, then I whittled it down to just Harry (Ron would be in Romania) and THEN I changed it to the way it is now. Don't you hate it when OCD gets the better of you?**

* * *

><p>Christmas was coming. One morning in mid-December, Hermione woke to find the grounds covered in several feet of snow. The lake froze solid and the Weasley twins were reprimanded for bewitching several snowballs so that they followed Professor Quirrel around, bouncing off the back of his turban. The few owls that managed to battle their way through the stormy sky to deliver mail had to be nursed back to health by Hagrid before they could fly off again. There was even a special photographer at Hogwarts doing Christmas pictures for just 5 Sickles a pop. Harry and Hermione eagerly did one- or attempted to, anyway. Right as the camera flashed, Professor Quirrel walked by with snowballs bouncing off the back of his turban (obviously the Weasley twins were taking no heed to their admonishments) and they started to laugh.<p>

While it was toasty and warm in the Gryffindor Tower, the rest of the castle was subject to harsh, cold drafts. Worst of all were Professor Snape's Potion classes down in the dungeons, where their breath rose in a mist before them. Everyone did their best to keep close to their hot cauldrons.

"I do feel sorry," said Draco Malfoy in one Potions class, "for all those people who have to stay at Hogwarts for Christmas because they're not wanted at home."

Hermione accidentally beheaded a beetle she was trying to chop, her hand was shaking so badly from anger. Malfoy had been even more unpleasant than usual since the Quidditch match. Disgusted that the Slytherins had lost, he taunted Harry even more so now, usually about having no proper family.

It was true that Harry wasn't going back to Privet Drive for Christmas. Professor McGonagall had come by the week before, making a list of students who would be staying for the holidays. Harry had signed up at once, and so did Hermione. Ron didn't, however. He was going to Romania with his family to visit his second-eldest brother, Charlie.

As they left Potions afterwards, Malfoy eventually got the best of Ron and he dived at him just as Snape came down the stairs.

"WEASLEY!"

Ron let go of Malfoy's robes.

"He was provoked, Professor Snape," said Hagrid, sticking his huge hairy face out behind the tree he was towing. "Malfoy was insultin' his faimly."

"Be that as it may, fighting is against Hogwarts rules, Hagrid," Snape said silkily. "Five points from Gryffindor, Weasley, and be grateul it isn't more. Move along, all of you."

"I'll get him," Ron said as Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle shoved past the tree, scattering pine needles everywhere. "Once of these days, I'll get him-"

"I hate them both," Harry agreed. "Malfoy and Snape."

"Come on, cheer up, it's nearly Christmas," said Hagrid. "Tell yeh what, come with me an' see te Great Hall, looks a treat."

So they followed Hagrid and his tree off to the Great Hall, where Professor McGonagall and Professor Flitwick were busy with the Christmas decorations. The Hall looked spectacular. Festoons of holly and mistletoe hunug all around the walls, and no less than twelve towering Christmas trees stood around the room, some sparkling with tiny icicles, some glittering with hundreds of candles.

"How many days you got left until yer holidays?" Hagrid asked.

"Just one," Hermione replied. "And that reminds me- Harry, Ron, we've got half an hour before lunch, we should be in the library."

"Oh, yeah, you're right," Ron said. Hermione was surprised- any mention of the library usually had Ron moaning and groaning. She thought back to what Harry had said, weeks ago: _I reckon Ron fancies _you.

"The library?" said Hagrid, following them out of the Hall. "Just before the holidays? Bit keen, aren't yeh?"

"Oh, we're not working," Harry told him brightly. "Ever since you mentioned Nicolas Flamel we've been trying to figure out who he is."

"You _what_?" Hagrid looked shocked. "Listen here- I've told yeh- drop it. It's nothin' to you what that dog's guardin'."

"We just want to know who Nicolas Flamel is, that's all," Hermione said in the most innocent tone she had.

"Unless you'd like to tell us and save us the trouble?" Harry added hopefully. "We must've been through hundreds of books already and we can't find him anymore- just give us a hint- I know I've read his name somewhere."

"I'm sayin' nothin'," Hagrid said flatly.

"Just have to find it ourselves, then," said Ron, and they left a disgruntled Hagrid and hurried off to the library. Once they were there, Hermione whipped out her list of subjects and titles she had decided to search and scurried away down the narrow rows of shelves. But as she pored over the volumes, she felt her concentration slipping away from her.

_I reckon Ron fancies you. _

It was all Hermione was able to think about. Ron was a nice friend and all, but she couldn't picture hugging or holding hands with that- that _idiot._ She could, however picture herself doing those things with someone else... preferably Harry... As she puzzled over this, she absentmindedly flipped the pages of _Important Modern Magical Discoveries. _A few minutes later she heard Ron calling for her so they could leave, and Hermione pushed the book back to its place on the shelves.

"You will keep looking while I'm away, won't you?" Ron said. "Send me an owl if you find anything."

Hermione stared. Ron _should _be talking about Quidditch statistics and such, or how much he hated Malfoy, but never about actually _learning_ something. Hermione was definitely suspicious, but she chose not to voice her opinon.

* * *

><p>Once the holidays had started, Harry and Hermione were having too good a time to think much about Flamel. They had the dormitory to themselves and the common room was far emptier than usual, so they were finally able to get good armchairs by the fire. They sat by the hour eating anything they could spear on a toasting fork- bread, English muffins, marshmallows- and plotting ways of getting Malfoy expelled, which were fun to talk about even if they wouldn't work.<p>

On Christmas Eve, Hermione went to bed looking forward to the food, the fun, and Harry. She was still surprised, however, to find a pile of parcles at the foot of her bed. She grinned through the fog of sleep still surrounding her. She put her bathrobe on and carried her presents downstairs to the common room; she and Harry had agreed to open their gifts together.

Hermione heard Harry's soft chuckle when she made it downstairs. She must have been quite a sight: a small girl tottering down the steps, face hidden entirely by boxes, and with only her bushy, frizzy hair sticking out, which looked even bushier since she had not brushed it.

"Oh, shut up, you," she said as she dumped them onto the floor by the fire, but she was grinning as well. Hermione picked up the top parcel from her pile. Written on the top was, _To Hermione, From Hagrid._ Herimone furrowed her brow. Knowing Hagrid, it was sure to be something dangerous. Nonetheless she ripped open the brown paper. Inside was a book entitled simply as, _Dragons._

She looked up at the screech of an owl- or what she thought had been an owl. Harry was holding a roughly cut wooden flute. Hagrid had probably whittled it himself. "Charming music, Harry," she teased.

Her next present also contained a book- _Quidditch for Beginners _from Ron. She stacked the book on top of _Dragons. _A third, medium-sized parcel from her parents contained a new schoolbag, which was fortunate, since her old one had split seams a few weeks ago. The fourth package, from a Mrs. Weasley (Hermione assumed that this was Ron's mum) had a Gryffindor crest, sewn by hand.

"Did you get something from Ron's mum, too?" Harry asked, peering over the growing pile of trash surrounding them.

She nodded. "Yeah. What did she get you?"

Harry showed her; a green, hand-sewn sweater and a large box of homemade fudge. Hermione raised her eyebrows. "She certainly likes to sew a lot. I wonder how she knows us?"

"Ron, probably," Harry mused. "He's a mummy's boy." He picked up a lumpy parcel, wrapped in gray cloth, and unwrapped it. Something fluid and silvery gray came out of it. Hermione gasped.

"I've heard of those," she said in a hushed voice. "If that's what I think it is. They're really rare, and really valuable, too."

"What is it?"

"It's an invisibility cloak," said Hermione, a look of awe on her face. "I'm sure it is. Try it on."

Harry threw the cloak around his shoulders and Hermione gave a yell.

"It _is! _Look down!" Hermione watched as Harry looked down in disbelief- the rest of his body had gone, except for his head, which was floating eerily in midair. Harry stood up and ran to the mirror- sure enough, his reflection stared back at him.

"There's a note!" Hermione shrieked suddenly. "A note fell out of it!"

Harry pulled off the cloak and seized the letter. Hermione peered over his shoulder and read the unfamiliar narrow, loopy writing:

_Your father left this in my possession before he died. It is time it was returned to you. Use it well.  
>A very Merry Christmas to you. <em>

Harry flipped the parchment over- there was no signature.

"Strange," Hermione puzzled. "Do you really think it used to belong to your father?"

"I don't know," Harry said quietly.

The note seemed to have flushed the happiness out of Harry- and Hermione didn't want that, especially on Christmas. "Come on, I've still got one present left," she chirped, and dragged him back to the fireplace.

Hermione made a grab for the last parcel and saw it was from Harry. Then, noting its rectangular size, she said, "Oh, please don't tell me you got me another book!"

Harry grinned, pocketing the note. "Maybe it is and maybe it isn't. You have to open it to see."

Hermione obeyed. Inside was a framed photograph of her and Harry laughing. With a jolt she realized that it was the picture that was taken when Quirrel had walked by. The frame surrounding it was painted scarlet and gold, and had tiny lions sketched into the corners.

"You don't like it?" Harry asked in a disappointed tone. Hermione realized a tear had made its way out of her eyes.

"No," she said, "It's perfect!" She flung her arms around him.

* * *

><p>Hermione had never in all her life seen such a Christmas dinner. A hundred fat, roasted turkets; mountains of roast and boilet potatoes; platters of chipotlas; tureens of buttered peas; silver boats of thick, rich gravy and cranberry sauce; and stacks and stacks of wizard crackers every few feet along the table. These weren't just ordinary crackers, though. When Hermione pulled a cracker with Harry, it went off with a blast like a cannon and engulfed them all in a cloud of blue smoke, while from the inside exploded a flowered bonnet and several live, white mice. When she left the table, Hermione was ladened down with things from the crackers, including a case to put her wand in, several copies of <em>Witch Weekly <em>that weren't due out for weeks, and a luxurious new eagle-feather quill.

Hermione spent a happy afternoon with the remaining Gryffindors and Ravenclaws in a furious snowball fight. Then, cold, wet, and gasping for breath, they returned to the toasty fire in the Gryffindor common room, where Harry broke in his new chess set by losing spectacularly to Hermione. After a meal of turkey sandwiches, crumpets, trifle, and Christmas cake, everyone felt too full and sleepy to do much before bedtime except sit and talk.

It had been Hermione's best Christmas day ever, and she fell into bed and gave one last look at the picture from Harry, not resting on her bedside before falling asleep.

* * *

><p>"I can't believe I let you talk me into this."<p>

"Hush, someone might hear you!"

"Oh, my foot! I'm freezing, let's forget it and go back."

"No! I know it's here somewhere."

Hermione crept along the silent, empty corridor with Harry under his invisibility cloak. That morning at breakfast, Harry had told Hermione all about his adventure with a mirror. Hermione had scolded him, saying that he was lucky he hadn't gotten caught, but she was a little curious about the mirror herself. Supposedly, it had shown Harry's parents. Harry had coaxed Hermione into going with him to see the mirror, and now look where that got her- wandering around the school in the dead of night, freezing cold, risking her neck-

"It's here- just here- yes!" Harry pushed the door open and dropped the cloak, running to the mirror that stood in the middle of the empty room. Hermione examined the mirror- it was dirty and scratched, and the wood framing around it seemed very old. Then she saw an inscription carved above it: _Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on whosi. _"See?" Harry whispered, pointing at the glass.

"I don't see anything," Hermione replied, squinting.

"Look! Look at them all... there are loads of them..."

"I can only see you."

"Look in it properly, go on, stand where I am."

Harry stepped aside, and Hermione took his place. "Can you see your family standing around you?" he asked.

Hermione gasped at the reflection. It wasn't just her family. It was her and Harry surrounded by friends and family, who were clapping. Flower petals were falling from the sky. With a sharp intake of breath she saw that she was wearing a beautiful white gown, and Harry was in a charming black tuxedo. Behind them stood a man dressed in black with a white sash, and he was holding a book. She reached out and touched the cold glass.

"No," she replied. "I see you and me. We're- we're at a party," she said, choosing her words carefully. That wasn't exactly a lie. She tore her eyes away from the image that she so wanted to be real and said, "Do you think this mirror shows the future?"

"How can it? All my family are dead- let me have another look-"

"You had it to yourself all last night, give me a bit more time."

"You're at a party, what's so interesting about that? I want to see my parents."

"Don't push me-"

A sudden noise outside in the corridor put an end to their argument. They hadn't realized how loudly they'd been talking.

"Quick!"

Hermione threw the cloak back over them as the luminous eyes of Mrs. Norris came round the door. Harry and Hermione stood very still, each wondering the same thing- did the cloak work on cats? After what seemed like an eternity, Mrs. Norris finally turned and left.

"This isn't safe- she might have gone for Filch, I bet she heard us. Come on."

And Hermione pulled Harry from the room.


	7. Chapter 7

**Soooo... I haven't been updating as often as I used to because school has started (UGHHH) which equals homework. Like yesterday my U.S. History teacher gave us only two days to make a PowerPoint about the Native Americans, my science teacher made us write a story about safety (I'm not even sure what the point of that assignment was supposed to be), I had this study guide to finish for English, AND I had to redo my French notebook, because apparently all my stuff was in the wrong format ::rolls eyes:: SO. Here is the long awaited chapter seven! YAYYYY! **

* * *

><p>The next night Hermione reluctantly agreed to go with Harry back to mirror, and they found their way more quickly than before. Harry was walking so fast that Hermione had to keep a light jog to keep up, or else the cloak would slip off. Hermione knew they were making more noise than was wise, but they didn't run into anyone.<p>

When they came back to the mirror, Harry ran and sank down to sit on the floor in front of it. Hermione stood off the side, watching him. He really shouldn't be spending all this time by the mirror. It was as though he were hypnotized by it. Hermione replayed the conversation she had had with him earlier on:

_"Want to play chess, Harry?" _

_"No." _

_"Why don't we go and visit Hagrid?" _

_"No... you go..." _

_"I know what you're thinking about, Harry, that mirror. Don't go back tonight." _

_"Why not?" _

_"I dunno, I've just got a bad feeling about it- and anyway, you've had too many close shaves already. Filch, Snape, and Mrs. Norris are wandering around. So what if they can't see you? What if they walk into you? What if you knock something over?" _

_Harry shrugged._

_"I'm serious, Harry, don't go." _

"So- back again, you two?"

Hermione jumped and swiveled around. Sitting on one of the desks was none other than Albus Dumbledore. Harry and Hermione must have walked straight past him in Harry's desperation to get to the mirror.

"I-I didn't see you, sir," Harry gulped.

"Strange how nearsighted being invisible can make you," said Dumbledore, and Hermione was relieved to see that he was smiling.

"So," said Dumbledore, sliding off the desk to sit on the floor with Harry and Hermione, "you, like hundreds before you, have discovered the delights of the Mirror of Erised."

"I didn't know it was called that, sir."

"But I expect you've realized by now what it does?"

"It- well- it shows me and my family-" Harry stammered, obviously not knowing the answer.

"And it showed Miss Granger getting married." Hermione froze, feeling as though her insides had turned to ice. Fortunately, Harry didn't say anything.

"How did you know-" Hermione started.

"I don't need a cloak to become invisible," said Dumbledore. "Now, can you think of what the Mirror of Erised shows us all?"

Harry and Hermione shook their heads.

"Let me explain. The happiest man on earth would be able to use the Mirror of Erised like a normal mirror, that is, he would look into it and see himself exactly as he is. Does that help?"

Hermione thought. Then, she remembered the strange carvings around the frame. She traced with her finger in the dirt the same inscriptions. Hermione stared at them. There was something strangely familar about the words. Then, it hit her: they were written backwards! Underneath, she wrote:

_Ishow no tyo urfac ebu tyo urhe arts desirE. _

Hermione frowned. It still didn't make sense. She was keenly aware that her efforts were being closely watched by Harry and Dumbledore. Suddenly, the message became clear to her. She erased her first translation and replaced it with:

_I show not your face but your hearts desire. _

"Well done, Miss Granger," said Dumbledore quietly.

"So it shows us what we want... whatever we want..." Harry said slowly.

"Yes and no," Dumbledore said. "It shows us nothing more or less than the deepest, most desperate desire of our hearts. You, who have never known your family, see them standing around you. Hermione," she was startled that he used her first name, "who has been overshadowed by the man of her dreams too many times, wishes to be married to him." Harry's gaze cut from Dumbledore to Hermione, who was blushing madly in the darkness. But soon his eyes went back to Dumbledore. "However, this mirror will give us neither knowledge or truth. Men have wasted away before it, entranced by what they have seen, or been driven mad, not knowing if what it shows is real or even possible.

"The Mirror will be moved to a new home tomorrow, and I ask that you do not go looking for it again. If you ever _do _run across it, you will now be prepared. It does not do to dwell on dreams and forget to live, remember that. Now, why don't you put that admirable cloak back on and get off to bed?"

They stood up.

"Sir- Professor Dumbledore? Can I ask you something?" Hermione asked.

"Obviously, you've just done so," Dumbledore smiled. "You may ask me one more thing, however."

"What do you see when you look in the mirror?"

"I? I see myself holding a pair of thick, woolen socks."

Hermione and Harry stared.

"One can never have enough socks," said Dumbledore in response to their expressions. "Another Christmas has come and gone and I didn't get a single pair. People will insist on giving me books."

When Hermione climbed into bed later that night, it occured to her that Dumbledore might not have been quite truthful. But then again, it had been quite a personal question.

* * *

><p>Hermione wished she could forget what she saw in the mirror but she couldn't. That image of happiness haunted her, and she longingly wished that it would become real. Harry was the same way- he'd told her about nightmares he'd started having about his parents.<p>

"Dumbledore was right, that mirror really could drive you mad," Hermione had moaned over breakfast.

Ron, who had come back the day before term started, took a different view of things. He was torn between shock at the idea that Harry got an invisibility cloak for Christmas, the annoyance that Harry hadn't at least written him about the mirror, and disappointment that they hadn't found out who Nicolas Flamel was.

One night, Ron and Hermione had decided to play chess. Chess was the only thing Hermione ever lost at, something that Harry and Ron thought was very good for her. Ron was just about to capture Hermione's queen when Harry walked in, sodden with mud and dripping with rain.

"Don't talk to me for a moment," said Hermione when Harry sat down next to her. "I need to concen-" She caught sight of Harry's face. Last time she checked, he was going to Quidditch practice, not to mud war. "What's the matter with you, you look terrible."

Speaking quietly so no one else would hear, Harry told them about Snape's sudden, sinister desire to be a Quidditch referee.

"Don't play," said Hermione at once.

"Say you're ill," Ron suggested.

"Pretend to break your leg,"

"_Really _break your leg."

"I can't," said Harry. "There isn't a reserve Seeker. If I back out, Gryffindor can't play at all."

At that precise moment Neville toppled into the common room. How he had manage to climb through the portrait hole was anyone's guess, because his legs had been stuck together with what Hermione recognized at once as the Leg-Locker Curse. He must have had to bunny hop all the way up to Gryffindor Tower.

Everyone fell over laughing except Hermione, who leapt up and performed the countercurse. Neville's legs sprang apart and he got to his feet, trembling.

"What happened?" Hermione asked him, leading him over to sit with Harry and Ron.

"Malfoy," Neville said shakily. "I met him outside the library. He said he'd been looking for someone to practice that on."

"Go to Professor McGonagall!" Hermione urged him. "Report him!"

Neville shook his head. "I don't want any more trouble."

"You've got to stand up to him, Neville!" Ron burst out, to Hermione's surprise. "He's used to walking all over people, but that's no reason to lie down in front of him and make it easier."

"There's no need to tell me I'm not brave enough to be in Gryffindor, Malfoy's already done that," Neville choked out.

Harry pulled from his pocket a Chocolate Frog, and gave it to Neville.

"You're worth twelve of Malfoy," Harry said. "The Sorting Hat chose you for Gryffindor, didn't it? And where's Malfoy? In stinking Slytherin."

Neville's lips twitched into a weak smile as he unwrapped the frog. "Thanks, Harry... I think I'll go to bed... D'you want the card?"

As Neville walked away, Harry looked at the Famous Wizard card.

"Dumbledore again," he said, "He was the first one I ever-"

Suddenly he gasped. He stared at the back of the card. Then he looked up at Ron and Hermione.

"_I've found him!_" he whispered fiercely. "I've found Flamel! I _told _you I'd read the name somewhere before, I read it on the train coming here, ages ago- listen to this: 'Dumbledore is particularly famous for his defeat of the Dark wizard Grindelwald in 1945, for the discovery of the twelve uses of dragon's blood, _and his work on alchemy with his partner, Nicolas Flamel_'!"

Hermione leapt to her feet. She hadn't felt so excited since she'd gotten back the marks for her very first piece of homework. "Stay there!" she said, and she sprinted up the stairs to the girls' dormitory. She reached under her bed and pulled an enormous old book out, and ran back down to the common room.

"I never thought to look in here!" she whispered excitedly. "I got this out of the library weeks ago for a bit of light reading!"

"_Light_?" said Ron, but Hermione told him to hush until she'd looked something up, and she started flicking frantically through the yellowed, warped pages.

At last she found what she was looking for.

"I knew it! _I knew it!_"

"You know too many things, Hermione. And are we allowed to speak yet?" Ron grumbled. Hermione ignored him.

"Nicolas Flamel," she whispered dramatically, trying to savor this moment of genius for her, "is the _only known maker of the Sorcerer's Stone!_"

This didn't have quite the effect she'd expected.

"The what?" asked Harry and Ron.

She rolled her eyes. "Oh, honestly, don't you two read? Look- read that, there." She pushed the book towards them. She watched as their faces lit up with realization.

"Hermione, you are just _brilliant_," Harry said.

"Actually, I'm highly logical, which allows me to look past extraneous detail and percieve clearly what others overlook," Hermione said. "But that doesn't matter. The point is, the dog most be guarding Flamel's Sorcerer's Stone! I bet he asked Dumbledore to keep it safe for him, because they're friends and he knew someone was after it, that's why he wanted the Stone moved out of Gringotts!"

"A stone that makes gold and stops you from ever dying!" Harry exclaimed. "No wonder Snape's after it. _Anyone _would want it."

"And no wonder we couldn't find Flamel in that _Study of Recent Developments in Wizardry,_" said Ron. "He's not exactly recent if he's six hundred and sixty-five, is he?"

Hermione tried (and failed) to resist the urge to whack him over the head with her book.

* * *

><p>As the Quidditch match drew nearer, Hermione could tell that Harry was becoming more and more nervous. The rest of the team wasn't too calm, either. The idea of overtaking Slytherin in the house championship was wonderful, no one had done it for seven years, but would they be allowed to, with such a biased referee?<p>

Harry, Ron, and Hermione didn't know if they were imagining it or not, but they seemed to keep running into Snape wherever they went. At times they wondered if Snape was following _them_, trying to catch them on his own. Potions lessons were turning into a sort of weekly torture, Snape was so horrible to them. Could Snape possibly know they'd found out about the Sorcerer's Stone? Hermione didn't see how he could- yet somethimes she had the horrible feeling that Snape could read minds.

"I'm going to play," Harry whispered to her so suddenly that she nearly dropped her powdered lionfish scales. "If I don't, all the Slytherins will think I'm just too scared to face Snape. I'll show them... it'll really wipe the smiles off their faces if we win."

"Just as long as we're not wiping you off the field," Hermione said, pouring her scales in her cauldron.

* * *

><p>"Now, don't forget, it's <em>Locomotor Mortis,<em>" Hermione muttered to Ron as he slipped his wand up his sleeve.

"I _know_," Ron snapped. "Don't nag."

Although the sun was shining bravely that afternoon, the air was still very cold. Almost all of the students had donned scarves, hats, mittens, and several layers of clothing before going out to watch the Quidditch match.

"I've never seen Snape look so mean," Ron told Hermione. Hermione shrugged. She and Ron had been secretly practicing the Leg-Locker Curse, ready to use it on Snape if she showed any sign of hurting Harry. They'd gotten the idea from Malfoy, and she was a wee bit grateful for it, but she wouldn't mind using it on him, too.

"They're off!" Ron said, following the streaks of red and yellow through his binoculars. "Ouch!"

Someone had poked Ron in the back of the head. It was Malfoy.

"Oh, sorry, Weasley, didn't see you there." Malfoy smirked. "Wonder how long Potter's going to stay on his broom this time? Anyone want a bet? What about you, Weasley?"

Hermione barely heard what Malfoy was saying, as she was staring fixedly at Harry, who was circling the game like a hawk looking for the Snitch. Her fingers were crossed tightly in her lap. Ron also ignored Malfoy as George Weasley hit a Bludger at Snape.

"You know how I think they choose people for the Gryffindor team?" Malfoy said loudly a few minutes later as Snape gave Hufflepuff another penalty for no reason at all, "It's people they feel sorry for. See, there's Potter, who's got no parents, then there's the Weasleys, who've got no money- you should be on the team, Longbottom, you've got no brains."

Hermione broke her gaze from Harry and swung around, ready to throttle Malfoy, but Neville beat her to it. "I'm worth twelve of you, Malfoy," Neville said bravely.

Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle howled with laughter, but Ron, still not daring to take his eyes off the game, said, "You tell him, Neville." Hermione rolled her eyes and went back to the game- fortunately nothing had happened to Harry in the five seconds she'd looked away.

"Longbottom, if brains were gold you'd be poorer than the Weasleys, and that's saying something."

Ron turned around to make a smart reply when Hermione suddenly screeched, "Ron! Harry-"

"What? Where?"

Harry had suddenly gone into a spectacular dive, which drew gasps and cheers from the crowd. Hermione leapt up, her crossed fingers in her mouth, as Harry streaked towards the ground like a bullet.

"You're in luck, Weasley, Potter's spotted some money on the ground!" Malfoy yelped.

"Come on, Harry!" Hermione screamed, leaping onto her seat. She was completely unaware of the fact that Ron and Malfoy were rolling around under her seat or the whirl of fists behind her that was Neville, Crabbe, and Goyle. At the same time, Harry pulled out of his dive, his arm raised in triumph with the Snitch clasped in his hand.

The stands erupted with cheers. "Ron! Ron, where are you? The game's over! Harry's won! We've won! Gryffindor is in the lead!" Hermione babbled over the tumultous noise, hugging Parvati Patil in the row in front.

* * *

><p>Gryffindor Tower was certainly noisy that evening. Fred, George, and their friend Lee Jordan managed to sneak some food from the kitchen and even let loose some of Filibuster's No-Heat, Wet-Start Fireworks in celebration. But Hermione wasn't in the mood for celebration anymore. She couldn't celebrate when she knew that someone- Professor Snape- was going to steal the Sorcerer's Stone right under their noses! Harry had told them all about Snape's badgering to Professor Quirrel about how to get past Fluffy. So, as far as Hermione could tell, the Stone would only be safe as long as Quirrel stood up to Snape.<p>

Quirrel, however, must have been braver than they'd thought. In the weeks that followed he did seem to be getting paler and thinner, but it didn't look as though he'd cracked yet.

Every time they passed the third-floor corridor, Harry, Ron, and Hermione would press their ears to the door to check that Fluffy was still growling inside. Snape was sweeping about in his usual bad temper, which surely meant that the Stone was still safe. Whenever Harry passed Quirrel these days she gave him an encouraging sort of smile, and Ron had started telling people off for laughing at Quirrel's stutter.

Hermione, however, had more on her mind than the Sorcerer's Stone. She had started drawing up study schedules and color-coding all her notes. Hermione kept nagging them to do the same.

"Hermione, the exams are ages away," Ron said lazily.

"Ten weeks," Hermione snapped. "That's not ages, that's like a second to Nicolas Flamel."

"But we're not six hundred years old," Ron reminded her. "Anyway, what are studying for, you already know it all."

"What am I studying for? Are you crazy? You do realize we need to pass these exams to get into the second year? They're very important, I should have started studying a month ago, I don't know what's gotten into me..."

Hermione spent almost all of her free time in the library, and sometimes even dragged the boys over there with her. On one such occasion, they ran into Hagrid, who was looking in the... _dragon _section?


End file.
